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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084197">My Son</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown'>tinycrown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>adored characters: anduin [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, or the one where i write the theoryTM</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:21:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On the morning of Anduin's eighteenth birthday, Varian feels it best to tell Anduin the truth of his heritage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Varian Wrynn &amp; Anduin Wrynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>adored characters: anduin [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1221878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Son</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThusAPossum/gifts">ThusAPossum</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Anduin, can we talk?” Varian slipped carelessly into the foyer of Anduin’s chambers. He clutched a neatly wrapped white-and-blue gift box in his hands and looked around the neatly cleaned room. Two chaises’ and a small loveseat, a coffee table settled in the middle of all three. The curtains were open, The sun brightened everything- comparative to his son’s sunny personality. Wyll must have been cleaning, then. The candle wicks were trimmed on each candelabra and holder, fresh flowers had been placed in the small vase on the coffee table. Trying harder than usual then- the flowers were a new touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the morning of Anduin’s eighteenth birthday- and the raging war between Azeroth and the Burning Legion had only extinguished months ago. The numerous attempts on his and Anduin’s life had slowly ceased without the influx of demons parading around Stormwind despite the Illidari’s careful and diligent hawk-like watch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was lucky to even survive the initial assault- a saving grace from their crew and pilot who had so painfully maneuvered their way from certain death after the Horde’s sudden retreat. Genn was still furious at Warchief Sylvanas’ sudden dismissal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why Vol’jin decided to name Sylvanas Warchief? Varian had no idea- but all he knew was that it wasn’t the smartest move, and he considered Vol’jin to be a smart man. Whatever the spirits told him- he was on </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he died, that’s all Varian would say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He respected the troll. He did. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. That </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t the best decision. He hardly trusted the Banshee Queen already- there would have to be a mutual trust gathered on both sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something that didn’t seem possible already. She had proven before to be honor worthy. Other times, not so much. He had his moments himself where he wasn’t perfect and trustworthy himself- but he could recognize a threat, and prided himself in that skill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varian sighed and decided to seat himself down on the loveseat, looking down at the gift in his hands- and the incoming talk he’d have to have with Anduin in a few moments. A painful, unforgiving talk that he wouldn’t blame Anduin if he’d decided to hate him forever. He’d never be able to imagine reactions or the looks on people's faces- he was normally the type of person to not think before he spoke on topics that were unimportant but this… this wasn’t something to be thrown about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Father!” He heard a cheery, youthful and surprisingly well-slept voice perk up from his doorway, and Varian turned to look at his newly eighteen-year-old son. His shining sandy hair was tied back messily into a half bun, the rest spilling over his shoulders and down his back. He’d decided to forgo his usual sash and shoulder plates for something more comfortable. A simple embroidered sweater and pants with tied boots and his overcoat. Wyll would usually have something to say about it, but since it was Anduin’s birthday, Varian couldn’t blame him for wanting to switch it up a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anduin plopped down on the couch next to him and latched onto the king from the side, a simple good-morning hug. He squeezed the young man back tenderly and pecked his forehead. He forked over the gift with a playful jab and let his arm rest over the back of the couch. Varian watched as Anduin pulled the laces apart and folded the paper back with a growing smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew how much Anduin liked to write and document as well as read in general, and he said he’d just finished another one just a few weeks ago and hadn’t had the time to find another journal. He wouldn’t tell Anduin about the new bow sitting in the Royal Armory just yet. That could wait until later. He held a small grin as Anduin turned back and beamed at him, placing the two empty journals on the table and leaning back against his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the gifts, Father.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exclusive leather from the caribou of Northrend…” he recited almost lazily, “it’s crazy how many of Nesingwary’s people are still alive in the business.” Anduin chuckled and tapped his shoes on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varian found himself a bit choked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… what did you want to talk about? Or was it just the gift?” Varian sighed and slipped his arm from the back of the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have something to tell you, Anduin, and it’s not going to be pleasing.” he shifted his body toward his son and took his hands. Gloved thumbs brushing over his bare fingertips. Over layers of crisscrossed scars and wrinkles matted into his skin from just waking up against the airy, crinkled sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong? Is it Jaina, Genn or… what’s wrong, Father? Is everyone okay?” Anduin began to fret, his mind beginning to move a million miles an hour. Varian squeezed his fingers again and sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no they’re fine. It’s just- it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I wanted to tell you but I’m not quite sure how to say it without hurting you or making you uncomfortable,” Varian felt the urge to rub his neck appear and swallowed it down, “I don’t want you to think less of me- </span>
  <em>
    <span>or yourself, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but I just want you to feel okay about it but I don’t know-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just say it!” Anduin’s fingers were shaking with terrified curiosity, a deep frown replacing the joyful, excited grin he saw beforehand. Varian gulped and exhaled, readjusting his grip on Anduin’s hands and staring down at the couch, the words sitting on the tip of his tongue, but with one chord it could ruin it all. It was so easy to just shatter his heart into pieces the moment he spoke but Varian didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do that, he wanted Anduin to be okay but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserved to know. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to know, Anduin,” Varian leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, Anduin’s eyes were wide and anxious, his pupils trembling within the bright irises that somehow matched his own. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Absolutely nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>changes anything between us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you please…” Anduin wet his lips and his shoulders hunched, the moments just before he completely closed himself off making themselves apparent, “can you please just tell me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varian took a moment to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not your biological father.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confusion. Complete and utter confusion was the immediate reaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about? Of course you are.” Anduin sounded skeptical, as if Varian was playing some practical joke on him. He pulled his forehead away from him and Varian felt part of his heart sink deep into his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Anduin, I’m not.” He could feel the trembling of the smaller man’s fingers increase, and he could see the rise of his chest begin to stutter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well- well if… if you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>my father… who?” He could hardly articulate words, and Varian moved from his hands to his arms and held him steady. Anduin looked as if he were moments away from bursting into tears, and it hurt him physically to see him that way. “Did mother-” he cleared his clogged throat, his voice thick with hurt, “was Mother unfaithful?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Anduin, your mother- she…” he controlled another exhale, “she </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>pregnant but… but we lost the baby just a few weeks before it was supposed to be born… Anduin…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait- I’m not, she isn’t my mother?” Anduin pushed away from him and stood, folding his arms tightly around himself as he clutched Tiffin’s locket in his fist. Varian followed him immediately and watched helplessly as he began to pace, “so was I some sort of secret adoption? What… </span>
  <em>
    <span>what are you saying?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Who is mother- and my father? Did you know them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Anduin, we were very close-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>know them?”</span>
</p><p><em><span>He’s too smart for his own good. </span></em><span><br/></span> <span>“Anduin, please. I know you’re upset, but let me finish,” The priest ceased pacing and faced him, hardly able to contain the tears behind his eyes, slowly beginning to trickle down his cheeks. Varian nearly smacked his shins into the coffee table with the forgotten journals on it and reached out to embrace Anduin again- the shaking, the breathing… it was getting too much for him to just stand there and watch him panic. “You’re still </span><em><span>my </span></em><span>son, I raised you, and I will always love you, that won’t ever change,” He rubbed his back soothingly as Anduin began to wilt into his shoulder, “I just felt that it was right to let you know.” </span></p><p>
  <span>“Can you please tell me who my real parents are?” Anduin mumbled into his shoulder, pulling his wet face away and scrubbing at his cheeks roughly. “Are they dead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of them is…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you trying to avoid this? It’s inevitable. Tell him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Be quiet! I’m trying… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell me who they are. I want names!” </span>
</p><p><span>“This is hard for me too, Anduin-”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Please!” </span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s begging now- just fucking tell him! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, just tell me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>DO IT! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthas!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. Several long moments of terse silence as Anduin simply stood there, like he was dead, just staring at him. Varian’s arms had long since slipped from his slender figure and hung limply at his sides, staring holes into the floor as he waited for Anduin to speak again. His fists were clenched so hard Varian thought he’d snap the leather bindings of his gauntlets when his muscles were tensed enough to endanger popping a vein. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mother?” His voice was like a quiver in the breeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Jaina.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been calling my mother ‘auntie’ for years, and she’s just been-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Anduin, she knows. She knows. She gave you to us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“She and Arthas… she got pregnant out of wedlock and she and Arthas weren’t even together when she had you- but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he knew and he came to me and told me that Jaina wasn’t ready for a child and neither was he, but he knew that Tiffin and I- Anduin, we had to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had to,” he deadpanned, tears dripping steadily from his eyes and controlling his voice out of sheer will to stay strong. “So it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>convenient</span>
  </em>
  <span> for you because you didn’t have an heir.” He nearly snarled, betrayal and hurt and resentment boiling over his sadness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No, it wasn’t convenient, Anduin, you were a gift to </span>
  <em>
    <span>us </span>
  </em>
  <span>and your mother loved you so much-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can a woman instantly love an infant she just received after her own died, and the fact that I wasn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>She died three months after I was born, you told me yourself!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anduin-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, I, I don’t want to hear it. I can’t. Not right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varian watched again, helplessly, as Anduin retreated from the foyer and stumbled into the halls. There was nothing he could say to make it better. There was nothing he could do but be there- no matter how much Varian wanted to take the problem and snap its neck with his bare hands, it just wasn’t tangible. It wasn’t something he could fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just the truth, and Anduin deserved nothing but the truth from him. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Anduin avoided talking or even seeing his father for two days, though he wasn’t sure why. Why he was so angry, yes, that could be understood but it was unfair to him. It was unfair to treat Father like that when he’d raised him as his son and cared for him like a parent should but… but there was that </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>lingering thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raising an heir as a convenience for the one they lost, the fact that he was truly the son of his father’s dead best friend turned </span>
  <em>
    <span>death overlord </span>
  </em>
  <span>and his alive best friend in which he lovingly called his aunt. She was his mother. Jaina was his mother and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> said anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But again, how could she say it? How could she explain it to him? She couldn’t. It wouldn’t make any sense to him- Anduin himself would deny it and he wasn’t sure if that could have hurt her if the conversation even did happen. Jaina was around but she was around when it suited her, just a testament to how much she truly cared if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>his mother-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She is. Not was. Is. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>How could Father ever be truly connected to him without some sort of biological tie? How could he truly care for him even if it wasn’t out of convenience? How could he look at him without seeing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arthas? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthas Menethil was his father. Jaina Proudmoore was his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounded so strange. It sounded… it sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anduin Menethil? Anduin Proudmoore? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No. It was wrong. They were both wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am Anduin Wrynn. Wrynn. Varian Wrynn is my father. Tiffin Ellerian-Wrynn is my mother. They loved me. They took care of me. They protected me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Didn’t they? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His entire childhood- such a rocky relationship with his father, a dark past of yelling and violence and fear. Was it so easy to hurt him- to, to say that it was out of </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>protection </span>
  </em>
  <span>instead of resentment and bitterness for the child they lost and replaced? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was he so depressed after… Mother died… because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>have any other blood family left? How could he compare to a biological child- he </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>because he wasn’t. He didn’t have the tie that he normally would with his </span>
  <em>
    <span>own child… </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anduin wasn’t that child. He was the son of Arthas, the son of a man who did </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>to save his people- only to end up destroying them and in the process try to destroy the entire world. Bolvar died because of his father. Bolvar was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead </span>
  </em>
  <span>because of his father. So many people were dead because of Arthas...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did that mean he was the true heir to a dead kingdom? The last heir to Lordaeron? Did his title in Stormwind mean nothing? He wasn’t the true firstborn son of Varian Wrynn. He was nothing, and Varian could easily take everything away from him with just a few simple words-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He loved me. He said that he loved me. He wouldn’t do that… would he? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am the son of Varian Wrynn. I am. I am Anduin Llane Wrynn, son to Varian and Tiffin Wrynn. Arthas Menethil is not my father. He isn’t. Jaina Proudmoore isn’t my mother she’s my aunt- she always has been. Auntie Jaina. She’s my aunt. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The denial kept running in circles around his head and no matter how much Anduin wanted to avoid the truth, the look on Varian’s face betrayed any possibility that it was a lie. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should I even call him father? Of course I should- no one else knows about this but us… or… who else knows? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization dawned upon Anduin- how many people actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>this secret? Could they use it against them? Could they use it to blackmail Varian or even himself? They could be extorted if the information was passed to the nobles. The dangers they could be put in, him or even… even Varian. It wasn’t good or- or </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your highness?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anduin nearly jumped a foot in the air as a dockworker, just a little older than him, was standing there, bent over to pick up a box but staring at him with something akin to concern. He straightened his clothes, wiping his eyes frantically as he turned fully to face him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” His voice was tight and clipped but a small shimmer of a gentle smile was mustered as best he could, tightening his posture the way Katrana so lovingly beat into him when he was young. He hoped the young worker wouldn’t notice the way he sulked or slumped- it would be embarrassing to crumble in front of a stranger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright? You seem upset.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anduin’s face pinched. He looked down at the water gently rocking against the foundation of the harbor and then back at the worker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine.” Anduin choked, turning back to the ocean just as the Cathedral Bells tolled their lonely song from the tower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hated the way his voice trembled. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Nearly two weeks without even looking at his f-Varian. Or speaking to him. Sometimes he would see him in the halls, but Anduin would quickly take another route out of his line of sight. Sometimes he would try to talk before Anduin disappeared, but the prince was too stubborn in his devotion to avoid him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anduin used to say that it ran through the family. Stubbornness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently he didn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anduin came to an abrupt stop in the throne room as his chest began to pang, his heart pulsing slower than usual. He took in a deep, suddenly strangled breath, and continued to step forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A servant had sent for him, saying that Lord Greymane wanted to have a word with him. A lecture, or maybe just a conversation. It was hit-or-miss these days, but he hadn’t gotten any angrier. He’d asked to see him in the Petitioner’s Chambers, and at this time of day, it would be empty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Suspicious, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anduin noted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded to the guard and slipped into the room, shutting the door quietly. Genn had his back to him, hovering over a table with a few documents on it, unsigned most likely. Another day of yelling and arguing for Varian. Anduin would usually help him destress by offering to take a walk through the city or even go out for a ride, maybe just sit and spend time together, something they were rarely able to do. He tried to prioritize him much more, but it just felt… it felt uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Genn? You wanted to speak with me?” Genn looked over his shoulder and his eyebrows raised, a sad smile appearing on his face as he stood up straight and rapped his knuckles against the table. Anduin’s eyes drew down to the few parchments that he was reading.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course. Come here. These nobles,” he tapped the papers again “they </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to press this tax on your people, hmm?” Anduin scoffed and rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have for years- they tried it with Westfall when I was young. I shut it down immediately. So now their focus is Stormwind,” He folded his arms as he moved closer to the king and glared down at the paper, “they’re already rich. Why do they want more? It’s ridiculous.” Genn shrugged and flicked the paper one last time, turning to face him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you doing okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anduin felt the pain in his chest again and squinted down at the papers, trying to read the tiny, neat lettering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Velen said that he noticed something about your aura being ‘dim’, I’m not quite sure what that means but, he asked me to check in on you.” Anduin flinched when Genn tapped his chest, right over his heart. Velen was worried? About him… just because his connection had dimmed? A tiny bit of warmth bloomed in his chest and he fought down a pleased smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think he would notice from so far away…” He admitted, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The man is a certified miracle worker and a prophet, he probably knows a lot of things that we don’t know about.” For the first time in a while, Anduin genuinely smiled at Genn’s attempt at humor. He folded his arms and clenched his gloves into his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does… but I think he tells us what he thinks is really important.” Genn nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about me?” Anduin groaned internally, nails digging into soft leather. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genn poked his chest again, the same spot. He reached up and clutched the locket that was always clasped around his neck, thumbing the intricate engravings and details carved into it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She is my mother. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Anduin?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, Genn. I’m just- I’m just here. That’s it. I’m here.” He shrugged, looking away and glaring at the floor. He didn’t know why he was getting so irritated, but… he didn’t want to talk about it. Besides, Genn probably didn’t know, so he couldn’t talk about it anyways-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s about your father, I’m here to listen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… it’s more complicated than that, Genn.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you need to say, just say it.” Anduin’s brow twitched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk about it.” He said firmly, stepping back. His chest gave another jolt of pain and he found he couldn’t take a full breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anduin, you can’t bottle this up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about? You don’t even know-” Anduin stopped himself. Brows furrowed as he peered up at Genn, his grip impossibly tight around his locket. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. He does know. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Genn grimaced at the look of shock on his face, but Anduin found himself too wobbly to even think about saying anything else. His chest hurt. His lungs weren’t functioning like they should have been and his limbs felt numb. Like the blood wasn’t getting to them. His heartbeat was irregular and slow, then rapid, then slow. It felt as if his heart was giving out on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anduin?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stumbled back and his hip hit the corner of a table, exploding with pain as he collapsed onto his side and went limp, eyes clamped shut. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>When Genn had come running to Varian with an unconscious Anduin cradled in his arms, he’d nearly had a heart attack. His first thought was some sort of assassination via poison and he was dying, but Genn had just said that he… he fainted. His heartbeat was irregular and his breathing was stunted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hours later he sat by his bedside, clutching his hand and tiredly resting it against his cheek. Occasionally Laurena would come in and check his heart and lungs, then leave with a sympathetic look geared toward Varian that he hated with all of his being. He wasn’t the one to be worried about. Anduin was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t had so much of a glimpse of Anduin that lasted further than thirty seconds. He hadn’t heard his voice ever since he’d fled his chambers crying, and he’d only gotten information about his wellbeing from Mathias of all people. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He looks tired.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He hasn’t gone for his usual walk yet. That’s not like him.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He went to see Reverence but he didn’t go for a ride.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’s been very quiet.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Did you think it was a good idea to even tell him?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“He deserved to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But it wasn’t a good idea.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, it wasn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held Anduin’s limp, pale fingers to his forehead and contemplated praying. Anduin wasn’t happy with him- he didn’t even know if Anduin still viewed him as his father, or even still cared about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course he does. It’s Anduin. He cared about Garrosh- and that prick tried to kill him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lo’gosh had a point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varian groaned in frustration and dropped Anduin’s hand, running his hands through his hair and tugging hard enough to evoke a painful protest from his scalp. He didn’t know how to talk to Anduin- there wasn’t anything else left to say! He just wanted to tell him and reassure him that he is still </span>
  <em>
    <span>his son. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That he loved him. He raised Anduin and tried his hardest and he ended up better than any of them could imagine. Better than Varian ever wanted him to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t express how lucky he was to have Anduin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not talking to him for a few weeks was torture, seeing and hearing about him acting differently than normal and not being able to do anything about it was torture. He decided watching your loved ones suffer from the sidelines was the worst form of a nightmare, and he never wanted to experience it again. He was going to talk to Anduin when he woke up- about what was bothering him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe clearing the air would comfort him more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varian heard a soft mumble and snapped his head toward Anduin. He took his hand again and squeezed it, standing up off of his chair and claiming the side of his bed instead. Anduin’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up at the ceiling, and then over at Varian. He didn’t say anything, but he could see his eyes immediately glazing over and he grit his teeth. Was he upset? In pain? What was wrong? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anduin, say something, please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked away from him and toward the door, then at the window, and then at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where am I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My room was closest. Genn brought you to me and Laurena has been watching over you, she happened to be nearby.” Varian explained, hoping to veer any further questions away so he could get to the real problem.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anduin looked so confused and pained, but he didn’t seem to be grasping his surroundings yet. He pushed himself up on his hands and gave Varian a look that made even the most stoic part of him squirm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here? I thought you had a meeting at four.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varian didn’t bother to ask how he knew that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was concerned, Anduin. I had to postpone the meeting. My son comes first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, I’m... I’m not… your son. You didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do anything.” Anduin disagreed so genuinely that Varian recoiled. Like he truly </span>
  <em>
    <span>believed </span>
  </em>
  <span>his statement- he wasn’t just saying it to say it or to make him mad or pity him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anduin… what are you talking about? You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>son. I raised you. We’re family whether you like it or not- </span>
  <em>
    <span>hey,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anduin looked away from him, but Varian grasped his cheek, turning his face back. “Just because you don’t happen to be my biological son doesn’t mean you </span>
  <em>
    <span>aren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>my son.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you have taken me even if your baby had been born?” Varian paused at the question, having never truly thought about it beforehand. He didn't regret taking Anduin in, it was the best decision he'd ever made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Anduin. Your mother loved you on sight- she said you were a gift to our family, a blessing from the Light. But even then… Arthas was my best friend at the time… I trusted him, and he was like family to me. So even if he hadn’t… if he hadn’t become the Lich King… I would still care for you like you were my own.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did… did auntie ever want me?” Varian paused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It… it was her idea, actually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She knew that she wasn’t ready, and Arthas didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to give you up necessarily but… with everything going on… he thought it best.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did she hide it from everyone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Illusion spell.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… she didn’t want me?” Varian squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, looking down at Anduin’s small hand in his own. Even after years, he was still too slight to match Varian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly Anduin, I’m not sure. But that doesn’t matter. She does love you- and she still wanted to be nearby, she promised to help me after Tiffin died… and she has. But that doesn’t matter.” Anduin spread his arms out slightly and Varian pulled him into a hug. He rubbed his back and buried his face into his trembling shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m your son.” Anduin said quietly, his voice shaky and wet. Varian chuckled and nodded, pecking his temple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re my</span>
  <span> son <em>and</em> Tiffin’s son,” He nodded, wiping Anduin’s tears away. “You’re a Wrynn first and foremost- blood doesn’t matter. At least, not to us…” Anduin perked up as if he’d just remembered something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That reminds me! Who else… knows about all of,” he gestured at himself vaguely, “this?” Varian thought for a moment- he was sure he remembered how many people he told. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Genn and Velen know- but Velen only knows because he can see into the future and that just </span>
  <em>
    <span>is not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fair,” Anduin’s little laugh made him feel warmer, “Mathias has always known, Magni </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but I’m sure he’s forgotten by now…” He remembered seeing the diamond statue of the man and shuddered, “I told Broll in confidence but… I never told Valeera. I think she’s figured it out by now, they tell each other everything. Bolvar...and…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments, Anduin looked irritated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” He prompted, shaking his arm a little bit. Varian looked sheepish, but disturbed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Katrana knew.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Onyxia knew.” Anduin looked pale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Onyxia knew.” He corrected himself, never able to forget the black-haired woman that had managed to torment much of his son’s young life and continues to do so in dreams and memories. The woman who had him kidnapped and split and nearly killed, an entire rollercoaster of an adventure to remember who he was, where he came from- Anduin and Tiffin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do we know that she didn’t tell anyone else-?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had SI:7 take care of it, Anduin. The people she told don’t remember.” Varian calmed that growing anxiety quickly, pulling Anduin into another hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Jaina know you were going to tell me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked her about it, and she was… hesitant… but she wanted you to know the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wasn’t she there?” Anduin mumbled against his neck, sighing and warming the hollow of his throat with his breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She said she was ashamed to face you… she didn’t want you to be upset at her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not… not at her but just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything?” Varian guessed, and Anduin nodded. He pressed his lips into a thin line and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll come around. I promise she will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Father.” Anduin squeezed him tight and pressed his face into his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah. That's right. I just wrote that. This theory is terrible in-game... but it is so good for hurt/comfort fics......</p><p>(please keep in mind this is completely unrelated to any of the long fics im writing, just a oneshot for a friend &lt;3)</p><p>Thank you for reading! <br/>Comments and Kudos appreciated &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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